


Spain's Heartbeat

by HeartofCanada (Tassledown), Tassledown



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff, Human Names Used, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mention of Child Abuse, Romano with PTSD, food talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 04:04:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3235604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tassledown/pseuds/HeartofCanada, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tassledown/pseuds/Tassledown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Romano wakes up alone at Spain's house and panics.</p><p>(Inspired by, but not directly about, a short comic by Hubedihubbe on Deviantart)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spain's Heartbeat

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously this is using personal headcanon about their respective histories with other Nations, but mostly wanted to write Spamano fluff, so enjoy.
> 
> Contains mention of torture, slavery, and serious child abuse, but not explicit.

Lovino woke up with a gasp and reached behind himself for Antonio's hand. 

He found cold blankets tucked around his back instead. 

“Fuck!” Lovino jerked around and fumbled through the blankets, tearing them off his body until he could look around the room. He bit his lip and fought down a sob.

He was going to kill him when he found him again.

Kicking the blankets the rest of the way off, Lovino got up and shoved his feet into slippers and stormed out of the bedroom with a soft snarl. He checked the bathroom, guest room, and library and then rumbled down the stairs into the kitchen.

It was cold and dark. Nobody had used it. 

It was after eight in the morning, the clock said. Had something happened? Lovino's breath sped up and he whimpered, standing limply in the kitchen as terror swamped his mind. He jerked to attention again and checked every other room in the house at a run, starting to sniffle as he went. He searched upstairs again and the patio and the roof and went out into the closed patio shared by the other apartments.

One of the neighbours was hanging out their laundry when he came out and stopped as she saw him.

“Lovino? Are you alright?”

“Did you see Antonio?” he asked.

“No, I don't think so. What's wrong?”

“Nothing.” Lovino turned around and shut the door hard. He hugged himself and started to cry, frozen in terror. 

He was gone. He was gone again, and Lovino didn't know where he'd gone. He walked stiffly to the couch and pulled his legs up to his chest, sobbing into his knees.

He couldn't do this, not again. He'd thought it was over, losing him. Finding him torn to pieces and tortured again – waking up in the night all the time, panting and scared and jumping from every little touch; watching the scars refuse to fade for months and years and decades as he couldn't forget the pain that inflicted them, always keeping that damn scar around his throat that would never go away from that damn Englishman.

Remembering the times he'd been forced to watch England torture him, rape him, threaten to hurt him to make Antonio cooperate like had always happened to him as a kid except it was his brother being hurt, their owners making him watch because they didn't care that he saw, before they were found to be Nations and taken – split up – by their bosses.

The door opened, but Lovino took a minute to realize what that noise meant. He got up without really thinking and saw he'd missed seeing who was in the doorway. He half-jogged into the entry, to where he could see the kitchen.

Antonio was putting groceries onto the counter.

Lovino threw himself at him and wrapped his arms around his chest. He crushed his face into Antonio's shoulder and muffled his sobs.

“Lovino?” Antonio asked. “What's the matter? Are you okay?”

“You left me,” Lovino hissed. “Where the Hell were you?”

“I realized we didn't have eggs for breakfast, so I went to get them. I didn't think I'd be that long. I'm sorry.”

“You asshole.” His voice broke and Lovino tugged on his shirt. Antonio turned in his arms and wrapped his arms around his back. Lovino shuddered and started to cry harder. “I fucking hate you.”

Antonion buried his hand in his hair, holding him tightly to his chest. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I thought if I had my phone it would be okay.”

Phone. Cell phone. Lovino realized he'd forgotten about them entirely.“You must think I'm stupid,” he groaned.

“Did you have another nightmare?” Antonio asked softly. Lovino just nodded, and Antonio carried on. “I've only had a cellphone for a decade, Lovino, it's easy to forget. I'll leave you a note next time, alright?”

“Good,” Lovino muttered. “I hate missing you.”

“I know you do.” Antonio stroked his hand over his hair and Lovino slowly started to relax against him. Antonio didn't let go, didn't stop stroking his hair until Lovino let go of him.

“Are you gonna cook the stuff you got or what?” Lovino muttered.

Antonio kissed him lightly on the forehead and ruffled his hair. “Sure. Do you want to help with the tomatoes?” 

“Why would I trust you to cook alone?” Lovino growled. 

“Ah, yes,” Antonio grinned at him. “Of course you don't.”

Lovino grumbled and stole the groceries from him, but made sure he pushed half the work over to his boyfriend to make sure he stayed in the kitchen with him. Antonio happily kept him company until he yawned and started to leave the kitchen. Lovino darted after him and followed him to the bathroom door only to get a confused look and then a soft understanding.

“Lovito, I'm just going to the bathroom. It's okay.”

“I knew that,” Lovino growled. He turned and tried to leave, but he waited at the end of the hallway until Antonio came out again. He sniffed angrily when Antonio saw him and went back to cooking, half-staring at the door to the kitchen until he came back in.

His lover placed a kiss on the top of his head before he went back to cooking.

Lovino sighed heavily. “I'm being stupid.”

“You're not being stupid, Lovino,” Antonio said. “I know why you're scared. It's okay. Nothing bad's going to happen here.”

“I know that.”

Antonio tapped him on the forehead with a laugh. “Of course you do here.”

Lovino moved away before he could do something stupidly sappy like touch his chest. “I know it's emotional bullshit, you don't have to remind me everytime.”

He got an agreeing noise in response. Lovino shoved the food at him and went back into the living room to curl up on the couch. Antonio finished cooking by himself and, when he came out to join him, he placed a full plate in front of Lovino before he curled up on the couch beside him and turned on the TV. Lovino pressed up against Antonio on the couch and moved him until he was positioned so Lovino could press into his chest while he ate. 

Antonio wrapped his arm around Lovino's shoulders and ate his own food with his left hand as he watched the news . Lovino relaxed against him and slowly wrapped his leg around Antonio's as his head sank into the corner of his shoulder. 

When they were finished, Antonio stacked their plates and set them to one side and pulled Lovino into his chest with both arms. Lovino happily buried his face in his neck, inhaling his scent and going limp against him.

“Is that better?” Antonio asked.

“Yes,” Lovino grumbled. “Don't go anywhere without me today.”

“I promise,” Antonio said, then added mischievously. “If I point out I need to have a bath today, will you be joining me?”

“Don't push it, punk.” Lovino felt his face heat up, then added. “You need one.”

Antonio laughed. “After lunch, querido.”

“Fine, bastard.” Lovino shifted a little to be more comfortable in his lap and closed his eyes, his heart slow and steady once more, matching Antonio's heartbeat.

He could stay there and listen to it for hours.

**Author's Note:**

> Note: The type of house I'm basing Spain's off of is very traditional, tends to be long and tall with windows at the front and back, has a flat usable terrace on the roof and then an interior shared space between the other homes that's closed off from the street by the houses and lends itself to community things and knowing your neighbours really well.  
> He likely has other homes, but I see him as the type to enjoy living in a really social space like that.  
> (I am probably mangling the description, but it is almost 2AM and I just wanted fluff.)


End file.
